Full Lyrics
As it fell upon a day,
In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade
Which a grove of myrtles made;
Beasts did leap, and birds did sing,
Trees did grow, and plants did spring,
Every thing did banish moan,
Save the Nightingale alone.
She, poor bird, as all forlorn,
Leaning her breast against a thorn,
And there sung the dolefullest ditty,
Which to hear, it was great pity.
Scarce could I from tears refrain,
To hear her thus complain,
For her grief so lovely shown,
Made me think upon my own.
As it fell...
